


Across the Desert

by Shiros_Hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, The main relationship hasn't been decided yet so anyone reading this gets to vote on it, These are drafts for a possible fic, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiros_Hero/pseuds/Shiros_Hero
Summary: A small blue pickup truck bounces along the cracked pavement of the desert interstate, suspension rattling and groaning whenever it hits a particularly large bump. There’s little daylight left, and already corpses can be seen dragging themselves out of the sand, where they had spent the day hiding from the sun. Lance glances in his rearview mirror at the child in his backseat. He breathes in, pushing the gas pedal down with conviction. The sun disappears at last behind the plateaus.  The headlights flicker out briefly, and the truck approaches on a small zombie shambling into the middle interstate. The headlights flicker back on, revealing the small human form Lance was sure had been strapped into the backseat. He slams on the brakes, swerving to avoid her. The small body crunches under the tires, and the car flips into the desert sands.-----------------------This is a posting of my drafts for a possible upcoming fanfiction called "Across the Desert". If there's any interest in it, I will revise these drafts into an actual story format and post that. In the mean time, this work is open for you guys to suggest story elements, character relationships, and an overall plot. Just please don't steal any of my work.





	1. The Gas Station

**Author's Note:**

> This is tagged as both Shance and Klance because the main pairing has not been decided yet. Leave a comment on which pairing you would rather see! The first chapter is a little short, as I cut dialogue and storytelling down to the absolute basics. These are drafts after all. 
> 
> Are there parts of the story you'd like to see done differently? Let me know about it, and I'll consider your suggestions for the final work. Thanks for reading!

A small blue pickup truck bounces along the cracked pavement of the desert interstate, suspension rattling and groaning whenever it hits a particularly large bump. There’s little daylight left, and already corpses can be seen dragging themselves out of the sand, where they had spent the day hiding from the sun. Lance glances in his rearview mirror at the child in his backseat. He breathes in, pushing the gas pedal down with conviction. The sun disappears at last behind the plateaus. The headlights flicker out briefly, and the truck approaches on a small zombie shambling into the middle interstate. The headlights flicker back on, revealing the small human form Lance was sure had been strapped into the backseat. He slams on the brakes, swerving to avoid her. The small body crunches under the tires, and the car flips into the desert sands. 

\---------

He wakes up, breathing hard and leaned against the side of his undamaged truck with the child tight in his arms. The jolt of his waking startles the toddler, who hiccups. Lance stands and burps the baby while looking around at the setting. It’s a run down gas station, out in the middle of nowhere. 

A small farm house can be seen in the distance, with an unturning wind turbine. Lance reassures himself that it was just a dream, and then places the child into the cab of the truck. He promises he’ll be back soon, and goes off to investigate the gas station. The front doors are locked, but Lance tries them anyways. After seeing that trying to pry them open is useless, Lance cups his hands around his eyes and peers into the window of the gas station. He sees a backdoor, with only a rotten board holding it shut. 

There’s a hole in the ceiling, and it looks like Lance can drop down from it.  
Lance glances back at the truck before walking around the side of building. He scopes out the small side road until his eyes land on a dumpster. He jogs over and closes the lid on it before hoisting himself up on it and jumping onto the roof of the building. He walks over to the hole and drops down into the store, rolling into a rack of magazines to prevent from messing up his knees. He stands up and dusts himself off and looks around quickly before walking to end of the isle. He notices the shopping baskets out of the corner of his eye and picks up two. 

Lance walks back into the aisle and slides all the toothpaste, mouthwash, and skin lotion from one shelf into a basket. He eyes the diapers on the top shelf before tossing out larger bottles of lotion to make room for the diapers. He spends a few more minutes in the store, grabbing pallets of water and food before he hears a car door slam outside. Lance freezes, and drops into a crouch. He can hear two men talking about unlocking the front, and one of the men points out a new truck in the parking lot. The other man says that the truck was always there, and that it’s too rusted to move. Lance grimaces, muttering that the truck is probably in better shape than the two men. One of the men says he’s going to check out the truck. Lance panics, realizing that the men might kill the child if they find it. He takes the bag of sugar he had in one of his baskets and chucks it through the window a nearby car, shattering the decades old glass.

The noise of the impact distracts the two men, and Lance thinks they run around to the back. Lance grabs his screwdriver off of his belt and uses it to unlock the front door(He’s worked in retail before - He just jams it in the indent for the door lock, just below the push handle), the two baskets still hooked around his arms. As he steps outside, one of the men (Keith) places a knife to his back and tells him not to move.

Lance places the baskets on the ground before standing up slowly and placing his hands in the air. He seems to be complying, and Keith drops his guard just a little bit. Lance can’t see Keith, but he can feel the knife pull away from his back just a bit. Lance spins around and grabs the hilt of the knife, twisting it away from Keith and pointing it at his throat. He recognizes Keith, but ignores his old grudge. He warns Keith not to move, and to back away. Keith complies and steps back ten feet. Lance grabs the baskets and runs over to the truck. He’s starting to throw the baskets into the back of the truck when he hears a gun cock. He looks over to where Keith is before noticing the man on the roof. Lance puts up his hands and squints to try and block the sun from obscuring his view of the shooter. The shooter comes into focus and Lance recognizes him as Shiro. He swears under his breath.

Keith yells for Lance to drop the knife. Lance begrudgingly drops the knife, and gets on his knees. Keith jogs over to Lance and picks up the knife, then yells for Shiro to come over. We get some internal dialogue from Lance about how of course Keith is hanging out with his hero after the apocalypse and how of course Lance ends up at the sharp side of the stick. Shiro finally gets over there and trains his gun on Lance. He tells Keith to go check out whatever was thrown in the back of the truck. Lance glares coldly at Shiro while Keith rummages through his truck. Keith stops when he finds the diapers, and tells Shiro that he thinks this guy has a kid onboard. Shiro lowers the gun a little bit and asks him if there’s a kid. Lance nods, and bites the inside of his cheek. He manages to ask Shiro not to hurt her and says that she’s the only family he has left. Shiro gives him a pitying look and tells Keith to leave the stuff. Keith protests, saying that they need food too. Shiro says that the guy can’t have taken even half of the food in there. Keith refuses to let him go, and says that he and Shiro need to protect their own first. 

Shiro reaches out for Lance with his prosthetic hand. Lance hesitates, but he takes it, and Shiro pulls him into a standing position. Shiro says Lance and the kid are ‘their own’ now, and that he’s not going to let a child starve because of Keith. 

“Welcome to the team.”


	2. The Shack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance followed Shiro and Keith back to their camp in his truck. After settling in for the day, Lance sits down with Shiro to talk out their plans for the future. But before they can speak, they're interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late, I know. I forgot to post the chapter yesterday. As a bonus though, you guys get actual dialogue. Pacing is still a bit off, but these are my drafts. 
> 
> After this chapter I'm going to start the revision process and turn these into an actual fic. Tell me which pairing you guys want! So far, Klance has a 2-0 lead over Shance.

Keith unbandages his knife, his back to Shiro and Lance, who are sitting at the small breakfast nook. He glances over his shoulder at Lance and grimaces. Lance quirks an eyebrow and looks to Shiro, who just shrugs in response. 

Lance: If you have a problem, buddy, just speak up.  
Shiro: Lance  
Keith: No, Shiro, I do have a problem. Whether you like it or not, having Lance and that kid stay here is dangerous. He could be a spy, or planning to rob us blind, or he could be here to take you back.  
Lance: Whoa, I-  
Keith: No, you don't get to say anything. You and the kid are the only thing in 30 miles that we haven't seen before. Why haven't we seen you when we were on patrol? Why did you try and hide when we first met you? 

Keith gets up and moves towards the table as he speaks, becoming more and more agitated with each step. Shiro and Lance both stand, and Shiro pushes Lance behind him. (Lance thinks he can handle Keith just fine, but doesn't complain) 

Shiro: Keith, no. 

Shiro crosses his arms and Keith stops his approach. Keith glares at Shiro before taking out his knife and throwing it on the table. He storms outside, slamming the flimsy screen behind him. 

Lance: Is he… always like that?  
Shiro: He’s just being cautious.  
Lance: I can understand that. I’m not exactly thrilled to be shacked up with two men who were ready to kill me thirty minutes ago.

The toddler sleeping on the futon huffs in her sleep, and Lances sighs, running his hand through his hair. Shiro puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder and squeezes. 

Shiro: Don’t worry. I’ll go talk to him. You look after your little one. 

Lances nods, and Shiro walks outside to talk to Keith. Lances moves to check on the toddler, and frowns. She’s got a fever. Lance mutters something about dehydration, and moves over to the pot of water sitting on the counter, grabs the rag hanging from the stove handle, and dunks it in the cool water. He wrings it out before walking back over to the toddler. He places the rag on her forehead, and she whimpers, trying to move closer to the cold. 

Lance: Don’t worry, Maria. I’m sure Mr. Mullet won’t try and carve us like a Christmas turkey. He just- 

Lances stops as he realizes what he said. He thinks about spending Christmas in Cuba. 

Lance: Oh crow. It’s been a whole three years since this started. Six years since I’ve seen mama… She would have loved you. 

Maria chuffs, blindly reaching for Lance’s face. She seems upset, sympathetic tears bubbling as she touches Lance’s cheek. Lance grabs her hand and kisses it. 

Lance: Thank you, miha. Thank you. 

\-------------

The door shuts with a small squeak behind Shiro. The desert stretches out in front of the shack, with Keith the only visible thing for miles. He sits alone, shoulders drawn tight in anger and anxiety. He palms his knife, feeling the heft of its weight, and thinking about what it means to him. Shiro walks out to him, and sits next to him.  
Shiro: Nice weather, huh?  
Keith doesn’t speak, his shoulders tucked tight, defensive. Shiro places the knife between Keith and himself.  
Shiro: Keith… Talk to me.  
Keith: You defended him over me.  
Shiro: You were over the line.  
Keith: I tried to protect us.  
Shiro: I know you're uncertain about him. I am too, honestly. But he’s not going to hurt us. He has too much to lose.  
Keith: That’s exactly why he would hurt us.  
Shiro pauses for a moment before placing his hand on Keith’s knee.  
Shiro: Hey, what’s this really about?  
Keith: I-... I don’t know. I’m just angry and frustrated.  
Shiro moves his hand away from Keith.  
Shiro: About what?  
Keith: Everything. How can you just risk everything for some random guy and his kid?  
Shiro: He’s risking everything too. And I’m not trying to shoot you down here, but I don’t think he’s half as paranoid as you are. He didn’t even try and attack you at the gas station. He tried to sneak off.  
Keith: Until he turned and pointed my knife at me.  
Shiro: Not even then. He never tried to hurt you. He only tried to get away.  
Keith frowns and picks up the knife. Shiro stands, and holds out his hand for Keith. He helps him up.  
Keith: I… I need some time to think.  
Shiro: Do mind if I think here with you?  
Keith: No. 

Seconds pass, turning to minutes and then hours. Shiro sits patiently next to Keith until the sun sets. He claps a hand on Keith’s shoulder as he stands, using it to push himself up. 

Shiro: I’m going to go check on our guests. Did you want to join me?

Keith nods and stands, slipping the knife into his waistband. Together, he and Shiro make their way back to the shack. Lance is sitting on the couch, waiting for them. He’s gripping one of the bags from the gas station, filled with instant macaroni and other non-perishable food. The other bag sits on the couch next to Maria. 

Lance: I’m not the best cook in the world- I mean, I’m no where close to even Hunk’s level, but I have food. I can make you guys something to eat, if you want.

Keith’s stomach growls in response, and his ears flush red in embarrassment.  
Lance: Well, I’ll take that as a yes then. Keith, can you help me out?

Keith nods and follows Lance a few paces into the open kitchen. He turns on the small stove, and grabs a pot from the battered cupboards above. It’s coated in char, and the protective coating has been scraped off the bottom, but it’s one of the only ones left. 

Keith: We’re going to need water. I’ll go get some.  
Lance: There’s clean water right here.

Lance points to the pot he used to soak the rag in, to cool Maria and get her to drink.

Keith: No, that’s drinking water. We can cook with other water, since anything bad will just boil out.

Keith moves over to the door, but Shiro stands up and takes the empty pot from him. 

Shiro: I’ll go. The Drule have probably started coming out, and I can run faster than you if anything happens.  
Keith, nodding: Okay. Just be careful.

He sits down on the couch, waving a tired hand at Lance in acknowledgement.

Keith: If you need anything, just let me know.  
Lance: Will do.

The room is silent for a moment, the only noise is Lance tapping on the counter and the both of them breathing.

Lance: Drule?  
Keith: They’re uh, what we call the zombies. Because they… drool.

Lance laughs.

Lance: Man, that’s actually kind of cute. I always just called them muertos.  
Keith: What does that mean?  
Lance: The dead.  
Keith: That’s not even a pun.

Keith turns to look at Lance, almost astonished. 

Lance: I’m not a big fan of puns. I might just have to start calling them “Drule” though. That’s pretty funny. 

Keith offers a small smile, and turns back to look at the door. As soon as he isn’t facing Lance, the smirk he held drops into a serious expression. A few minutes pass, marked by Lance tapping his fingers on the countertops.

Keith stands, anxiety in him welling to an unbearable point. 

Keith: I’m going to go check on Shiro. The water station isn’t that far, he should’ve been back by now.  
Lance: I’ll go. I’m quieter than you.  
Keith: Yeah, because we didn’t catch you sneaking around in the gas station.  
Lance: I threw a sack of sugar through the window on purpose. To get you to step away from the truck. And besides, I disarmed you when you had a knife to my throat.  
Keith: That’s not-  
Lance: I’m going. Stay here with Maria.  
Keith: I’m not a babysitter!

Lance looks at Keith, warning clear in his expression.

Lance: Stay.

Lance hops over the small couch and runs through the door before Keith can say anything else. Keith fumes for a moment, before looking over at Maria and sighing. 

Keith: Why am I always the one that gets left behind.

\------------

Lance jogs out a few dozen feet from the house, eyes roving over the barren landscape. In the distance, he spots a tall water tower. There’s a man lying under it, but Lance is too far away to see who it is. He draws his screwdriver from his belt, and takes off towards the structure. 

His footfalls are soft in the sand, kicking up small clouds, but remaining quiet. As he approaches a dip in the sand, he crouches down and cups his hands around his eyes. The body under the water tower is half rotted, with its head torn clean from its shoulders. Not Shiro. He breathes a sigh of relief. Lance slides down the hill on his hip, standing and dusting himself off before looking around. 

He walks up to the body, kicking it over, just in case. To his surprise, he sees that the jacket the corpse is wearing has a crudely stitched skull on the front pocket. It’s hard to see with the dried blood covering most of it, but the skull is so heavily stylized it’s almost impossible for anyone in New Mexico not to recognize it.

Lance: What’s a Galra doing all the way out here?

On the tower above him, someone shifts, their boots scraping against the metal flooring that rings the tank. Lance drops down into a defensive stance, bringing his screwdriver close.

Lance: Shiro?

With no response, and no more movement, Lance creeps over to the ladder, and moves up it silently. He presses himself tight to the wall, stepping around the tight circle of the tank until he spots a bulky figure in his peripherals. Lance’s grip on his pitiful weapon tightens, but he stops before he strikes. The figure is Shiro, standing shock still aside from the silent shaking of his shoulders. Lance recognizes the signs, and stows the screwdriver just within reach. He wants to help, but he doesn’t trust Shiro entirely. Especially when he’s like this.

Lance: Shiro. Hey… I’m going to touch your shoulder. Don’t freak out on me, buddy.

Lance reaches out to Shiro, the tips of his fingers brushing the tense muscle of his shoulders. Shiro flinches, and Lance recoils, drawing his hand back towards him. It hurts him. Not physically, but emotionally. Everyone now is starved for touch, but Shiro seems to reject his. He knows that it’s not Shiro’s fault. Something terrible must have happened to him, just like it has with everyone else, but still. Shiro was an idol to him in the garrison. Being shunned by your hero always hurts.

Lance steels himself, and grabs Shiro’s shoulder firmly. He can feel the cords of muscle bunch even further under his touch, but after a moment, the tension falls from them like water. 

Shiro: I-...  
Lance: It’s alright, big guy. You’re okay.  
Beat  
Let’s get back to Keith. He’s worried about you.  
Shiro: Thanks. Could you...  
Lance: Yeah?  
Shiro: It’s, uh- Nevermind.

The tips of Shiro’s ear flush slightly, barely visible with just the light of the moon and the nearby shack. 

Lance: Don’t worry. I won’t tell him.

Shiro nods, and Lance moves his hand away. Together they walk back in silence to the Shack.


End file.
